


Beauty in a Tunic

by kissingandcrying (orphan_account)



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Bedding Ceremony, M/M, Prince!Eggsy, Virgin!Eggsy, mentions of merlahad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-15
Updated: 2016-09-15
Packaged: 2018-08-15 03:22:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8040550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/kissingandcrying
Summary: Apparently when you’re a prince you don’t get to decide who you fuck and when you fuck them. You just get your mum waltzing into your room, flanked by the two traitorous maids you’ve known since you were in nappies, stumbling around the castle and tipping expensive busts over, telling you, “Wake up, love. Your ceremony is today.”





	Beauty in a Tunic

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous prompted virgin!eggsy and this literally spiraled out of control. This is part 1/2 because I still haven't finished and I didn't want to keep them waiting for too long. Some notes: what time period is this? No clue. All I know is that Michelle is an excitable queen who likes outdated customs, traditions and costumes when something big is happening, and Harry's a fan of suits. Eggsy likes cardigans and profanity. Second, what country/territories are these? Also no clue. They're never mentioned because I'm really bad at keeping that kind of stuff together lol. Third? Do bedding ceremonies exist and do they work like this? Apparently these ceremonies were medieval practices, and we have a lot of traditions today that stem from that. Did they work like this? Hell no. Lol. This story has literally taken every liberty and created some hodge podge excuse to get Harry and Eggsy into bed together, so please don't think that this is an accurate representation of any legitimate bedding ceremony. 
> 
> Any and all mistakes are mine. I have to come back and read it a million times to look for errors but when I get the chance, I'll certainly neaten it up if there's anything amiss.

Eggsy feels like a piece a meat.

Yeah, the luckiest piece of meat in the world, all things considered, but still.

Apparently when you’re a prince you don’t _get_ to decide who you fuck and when you fuck them. You just get your mum waltzing into your room, flanked by the two traitorous maids you’ve known since you were in nappies, stumbling around the castle and tipping expensive busts over, telling you, “Wake up, love. Your ceremony is today.”

“What ceremony?”

Eggsy’s not a stranger to having duties and plans thrown at him because he's going to inherit a throne. Most of the events he attends won’t be ones he’s willingly chosen to attend, but the way his mum is smiling and moving swiftly to his bed, throwing the sheets off of him is alarming enough that he has to ask her for clarification.

“Mum, _what ceremony?”_

“You haven’t been paying attention, I see.”

Eggsy tries to reach for his blanket so that he can rebury himself. Maybe go back to sleep and sort out what the fuck his mum is on about in a few hours, but Michelle is persistent. She reaches out and tugs them down again, fabric shuffling over her crinoline.

“Up.” She says. “Lorna, Maud, I need him bathed and ready in an hour. Do you think we can manage?”

“Ican manage,” Eggsy grumbles. “I can wash myself, mum.” 

“You can’t even wake up on time.” Michelle reminds him. She tugs up her petticoat and Eggsy thinks it’s ridiculous that she’s even wearing it, since nobody wears petticoats anymore (atleast not this size petticoat). She’s better off shoving herself into a tailored jacket and a long skirt and calling it a day. He watches her struggle with the sheer size of her outfit before she sighs frustratedly and says, “Oh, shit. Just… get him ready, please. God this is a beautiful outfit, but it's gone and worked my last.”

Eggsy’s still not quite sure why he’s awake so early and why his mum is so harried.  The second she leaves, Lorna coaxes him out of bed by sitting beside him and tugging on his shirt. Eggsy raises his arms out of habit and she slips the piece over his head.

“What’s going on?” He asks Lorna. “And why’s mum dressed like… that.”

“Oh, Eggsy. You really haven’t been paying any attention?” Lorna asks. She folds his shirt and lays it on the end of the bed, then stands up and motions for him to follow. He doesn’t need someone to undress him. When she reaches for his bottoms he bats her hand away and then pushes them down himself. “Your ceremony is tonight.”

“Yeah,” Eggsy says angrily. “I got that much. Which ceremony?”

“Your _bedding ceremony_.” She hisses. “A very important ceremony considering you’ll be chosen for marriage if it goes well.”

“That’s bullshit.” Eggsy responds tightly. He’s not interested in any bedding ceremony. At all. He waits until Lorna’s folding his bottoms before he climbs back into the bed and tucks himself in. Lorna growls at him and lets the bottoms go so that she can grab the covers in both fists and yank on them.

“ _No._ Go and get in the bath.” She grunts.

There are times when Eggsy really can’t stand having nannies. He’s a prince. He’s an adult. He’s a man who wants to sleep. Why don’t any of these things matter?

With extreme resignation, he rolls out of bed and stands up. He pulls all of his curtains aside so that his room is illuminated by the the rising sun, and then he promptly stomps his way into the bathroom like a petulant child. Lorna calls after him that he’s being ridiculous, but seeing as how he’s apparently being given away tonight in what he assumes is the most uncomfortable marriage proposition ever, he couldn’t give a toss.

Maud is expecting him. She’s crouched down beside the porcelain of the tub with her arm in the water checking the temperature, and she looks up briefly when Eggsy storms in.

“Oh, stop it.” She chides. “There’s no reason to be upset because of your lack of attention. Your mum has been telling you about this for a month.”

“No, she hasn’t.” Eggsy argues.

“She has. And she’s had Roxy tell you as well. And Lorna and I have mentioned it a few times.”

Eggsy can’t recall any of that. Of course he knows about bedding ceremonies. It’s a traditional form of courtship around certain parts of the world. It’s strange to still use them as political leverage, but there aren’t a whole lot of formalities he takes as a prince that actually make sense outside of the context ‘that’s just the way it is’.

Eggsy steps his way over the side of the tub and climbs down into the water, and it’s so congested with bubbles that he almost loses himself sitting down in it. Maud laughs and scoops a few of them onto her thin, long finger, laying them on Eggsy’s nose. He blows out so that they fly around the two of them.

“This is bullshit.” He tells Maud.

“You’ve had weeks to come to terms with that, and you’re only saying it now.”

“Yeah, because…” _I wasn’t paying attention. Again._ “I don’t fucking get it.”

“It’s not for you to get. If you’re that concerned, you’ll have to bring it up with your mum, but she’ll likely be wondering why you hadn’t done it weeks ago when she told you that someone had bid on your company.” Before Eggsy can follow up with a brash comment about why he hadn’t responded weeks ago, Maud puts a hand up and says, “Wash up, Eggsy. I'll be back in to check on you.”

Eggsy slides down the back of the tub until he’s kissing the waterline. Maud gives him a look and heads for the door, stopping just shy of the handle and adding, “And don’t take too long or your mum’ll have all of our arses.”

 

* * *

 

One thing that Eggsy doesn’t understand is the purpose of a bedding ceremony. He’s never thought about it because it’s never really applied to him. It’s only applied to those faceless names he’d had to memorize in his prince-tailored history textbooks.

But he thinks about it now, as Maud is walking him like some sacrificial lamb to another bed chamber in some other, more isolated part of the castle.

He thinks about it again when he steps into the room and there’s an unfamiliar figure sitting on the velvet chaise in the corner of the room.

He thinks about it a third time when he realizes that this isn’t some kind of joke. Somebody’s actually here, in his castle, in this room, to fuck him, and everyone else is totally okay with that. Everyone else thinks that selling the prince’s virginity for public relations is an alright thing to do.

 _Shit_ , Eggsy thinks before he has time to come up with a more holistic response to the situation.

The first thing is that the man is attractive. Almost inappropriately so, if his peppered hair is anything to go by. Eggsy’s experience with age is that it does no favors for the human body, especially not for those involved in political affairs, but here was a man in a suit worth more than Eggsy’s entire future as a king and he looked insanely good in it.

Hence, Eggsy’s the luckiest piece of meat in the world.

But still a piece of meat.

Maud nudges him a bit further into the room and Eggsy looks over his shoulder, panicked. Weren’t they going to have breakfast? Lunch? Dinner? Didn't his mum mention that this was happening tonight? Wasn’t there some sort of introduction? 

“Maud…” Eggsy begs, turning around and grabbing her arm firmly. “Wait. _Fuck_.”

“Language, Eggsy.” She says back with a soft sigh and a dejected drop of her shoulders.  

“Don’t leave me, Maud.” Eggsy begs quietly. He’s not ready to be eaten alive. Not by a man as handsome as this. He’d expected the reprieve of a homelier prospect so that his embarrassing inexperience might not shine so brightly as the darkest point of their meeting, and that possibility has all but been shot to hell. “I’m not ready.”

Maud looks at him nervously and then peeks over his shoulder. Eggsy copies.

The sight they’re making together is highly suspicious, he’s sure, and Eggsy couldn’t care less. They both give the man a weak smile before turning back towards one another, with Eggsy gritting his teeth. “I’m not ready. Really, honestly. I’m not ready. Isn't this supposed to happen tonight? Don't I get the fucking day to think about it?”

“I don't know! I'm just transporting you. Those are my directives.” Maud shoots back. “Eggsy, this is important. Just… get on with it.”

“ _No_ ,” Eggsy hisses as she tugs her arm away and smiles apologetically at their guest. “Maud, wait. _Maud.”_

Maud doesn’t wait. She shoots Eggsy a firm look and then slips out of the room almost more quickly than she’d come in, closing the door behind herself.

“You needn’t worry, Eggsy.” The man speaks up. “I’m merely here to introduce myself.”

That’s not likely. Eggsy’s familiar with the resolute nature of royal customs. He’s been raised alongside them. Nothing is ever ‘merely’ an action or an event. There’s always something extra involved.

“Yeah?” Eggsy asks nervously, shifting his way back towards the door until he's pressed up against it. “Who are you, then?”

“My name is Harry Hart.” The man responds. His voice is deep and even, and his accent is crisp. He sounds like a leader. Eggsy supposes that in order for him to even be given this opportunity, he has to hold some type of political weight.

“Okay.” Eggsy says. “Good to meet you. I’m Gary. But everyone calls me Eggsy.”

“Well it’s nice to formally meet you, Eggsy.” Harry smiles. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Eggsy looks him up and down to try and get a read on him, but fumbles behind himself for the door handle and then holds onto it. Harry doesn’t say anything, but he watches Eggsy curiously. There’s a dull silence that drifts up between them and Eggsy’s already anxious enough as it is. The lack of noise is making him twitch.

“So what happens now?”

“Nothing.” Harry says. “There isn’t any particular schedule for this sort of thing.”

Eggsy plops his head back on the door. This whole setup is ridiculous. He’s clean, smells like wintergreen, and he’s in a cotton robe that makes him look like a pompous knobhead.

“Do we have to spend the whole day together?” He asks quietly.

“I rather thought we’d be done sooner than that.” Harry admits.

Eggsy straightens up and glares across the room. “Right. Okay.”

“What do you think?”

What does Eggsy think? An attractive man is here to sleep with him and the idea is making him crawl out of his skin. Call it performance anxiety, but Eggsy can’t do this.

“Fuck off.” Eggsy says. He turns around and pushes down on the handle roughly, only to find that the thing wiggles and the door doesn’t budge. This is complete, _complete_ bullshit. He hadn’t even heard Maud lock the door. “Oh my god, I’m locked in here.”

“No. The other door is open.” Harry tells him.

When Eggsy turns around, Harry’s pointing to the other side of the room where there is, in fact, an open doorway that leads to the hall he’d just come down.

“In my defense, we don’t use these rooms. I didn’t know this part of the castle existed.” Eggsy says quickly. He clears his throat and says, “So.”

“You don’t need to defend yourself.” Harry tells him.

Eggsy mumbles a quick ‘okay’ and then he moves to the door with his head held high and decides that if he has to spend the entire day convincing his mum to send Harry home he’ll do it, because he’s not willing to embarrass himself any more than he already has, clothes on _or_ off.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Maud hasn’t gone very far. Eggsy only has to follow the scent of her Lavender perfume to find her feet away, skirting off down the hall in a dedicated manner.

“ _Maudely_.”

Eggsy’s voice is almost deafeningly loud in the large halls of the castle, no doubt audible to Harry Hart. Eggsy doesn’t make any effort to stifle it. Maud visibly startles and stops in her tracks, looking over her shoulder with her eyes as wide as saucers.

“Eggsy! Christ, what are you doing?”

“I need to speak to my mum.” Eggsy huffs. He really shouldn’t have been running because he’s shit at it, and it makes him out of breath.

“About _what_?” Maud asks.

“About Harry Hart, what else?” Eggsy asks. “I’ve decided I can’t do this. Not right now.”

“Why?”

Eggsy gestures between himself and the empty space behind him as if it’s obvious. None of this had been an issue last night. He feels like this entire morning has been some kind of stunt. A lesson in paying attention to course materials or royal traditions.

“It’s not, Eggsy.” Maud sighs. “This man has shown immense interest in your company. If you pull out of this, it’s highly unlikely that he’ll proposition you again, do you understand?”

“I mean.” Eggsy says. “Yeah, but.” And then he stops again and says, “Why now? Why can’t he just wait?”

“You should ask him. He’s not a reserved man, something you’d know if you got more than just his name from him. He’s asking for a place in your bed, I’m certain he’s not keen on upsetting you by withholding information.” Then with a heavy look, Maud asks, “Did you even talk to him at all, or did you run out after me?”

“I got his name, but then I fucking left! What else was I supposed to do? He was lookin’ at me.”

“Oh, my. How terrible. He was _looking_ at you.”

“This is serious, Maud.” Eggsy argues. “Like, I’m really losing it.”

Maud seems thoroughly unimpressed. She takes Eggsy by the arm and turns them both around, tugging him back the way he’d come. He tries to get out of it, but Maud’s grip is firm. It’s the same grip she’s always used on him when there’s no room for argument and when she’s serious about Eggsy following orders.

“It’ll be over in one day.” She says loudly. “Give him today. He won’t force you to do anything, Eggsy. You’re a prince. He wouldn’t dare do that, but running off like this is unacceptable. Make your intentions clear - and don't you dare deny him if with the intention of picking him back up later. That's not how these things work. Be certain that you're not amenable to his company.”

Eggsy’s not worried about Harry’s proposition. That’s not the issue. The man’s first impressions had made him curious enough that he’d easily go back, if only the end game weren’t him spread out on his back with a rod up his arse.

Eggsy shivers and renews his efforts to get out of her hold.

“Maud, please just listen to me.” Eggsy says.

“I’ve been listening to you and if I do it any longer, I’ll lose my mind. Come and find me tonight if you need me. Until then, go and solve this.”

Eggsy bites his lip until it stings. He understands Maud’s perspective and he doesn’t like it. She’s right, though, he begrudgingly admits. Eggsy’s a prince and he has public relations to maintain, territories to align. Making himself and his decisions clear are a part of the job description. 

“I don’t have to sleep with him.” Eggsy says.

“You never had to.” Maud reminds him. “Though if you weren’t ready you should have told your mum when she asked you weeks ago. Turning him away today puts you in a very bad position. ”

“She didn’t ask me.”

“Bollocks. She did. I was there.” Maud sighs.

“So she’s expecting me to say yes.”

“We all are.” Maud says. “But you don’t have to. Who knows. If you keep up with that naughty mouth of yours, he might run away before you ever get the chance to decline.”

Eggsy nudges her with his hip and lets out an exasperated grumble, but he doesn’t deny it as a very real, and perhaps welcome, possibility. When he gives up the idea of backing out completely (because apparently this is a big thing that requires a lot of consideration), he doesn’t say so explicitly. He just drags his feet back towards the room until he’s outside of the big, brass doors again.

He slips back into the room with the goal of going unnoticed, but Harry is waiting for him.

“Have you worked it all out?” Harry asks. He’s holding a book that he’d likely found on one of the many shelves in the wall. He promptly closes it and sets it down beside himself, then he uncrosses his legs and stands up.

He’s taller than Eggsy expects. His legs are long and bowed just slightly, and his suit trousers are sticking to his thighs, loosening around his shins and ankles like they were made for his body. Well, he’s a rich bloke. Probably a politician. They likely are made for his body. His suit jacket is fitted, too, and he’s got white gloves on either hand as if he’s about to check for dust.

He truly is a devastating man.

Eggsy sighs and blushes, and then says, “I’m just nervous, alright? I’m not, like… you know.”

“I know.” Harry says. “I’ve made no effort to hide why I’m here, and if this is not something you’re ready for, I won’t push. You need only let me know.”

Eggsy licks his lips and then looks at Harry. The man is looming and Eggsy’s not sure if it’s a situational thing or a permanent part of his presence as a person. He’s not so close in proximity, but he’s standing in a manner that suggests he might go either way, back towards his seat or right into Eggsy’s space.

The thing is that Eggsy should be ready. He’s got a checklist of reasons why he _should_ be ready. He’s twenty three, he’s to inherit a throne, his mum is going barmy trying to marry him off, he spanks it atleast twice a day to fantasies of William the Stable Boy.

But he's also got a list of reasons he should turn tail and run. He just found out about it _this morning_. He’s never met Harry before in his life. He’ll probably be walking side to side for the next week and he’s got functions to attend. There’s also the fact that he’s not nearly as attractive and (he assumes) experienced as Harry, so he’ll embarrass himself.

“Even if you have sex with me, you won’t wanna marry me.” Eggsy warns him. “I’m not… husband material, really. Not right now.”

“You can’t know that.” Harry says.

“I do know that.” Eggsy says. “And that’s the point of all this, yeah? Like, to find out if you want to marry me.”

“I already want to marry you. This is just a formality.” Harry says.

Eggsy’s quite confident that Harry’s desire to marry is politically motivated. Nobody goes into a bedding with such strong conviction about their marital choices, especially when the option they have is a young and ridiculous prince with zero filter or self control. Either Harry is exceedingly more powerful than Eggsy, or he’s much, much less powerful than Eggsy, and this marriage is for monetary or territorial convenience.

Eggsy looks over Harry’s suit again and decides that he falls into the ‘exceedingly more powerful’ category.

“I don’t like formalities.” Eggsy huffs.

“You’re a prince. You don’t have the luxury of allowing your likes and dislikes to dictate actions that affect your kingdom.” Harry reminds him. “Neither of us are well acquainted, but If you could… bring yourself to do this, perhaps give me a chance, your kingdom would want for nothing.”

Eggsy licks his lips again. They’ve gone dry and he wonders how he would kiss Harry anyway, looking pallid and ghostly and altogether uninteresting. He’s a boorish person and he can’t understand how Harry can’t already see that. It only takes one meeting for most people.

“I’m not good at any of it.” Eggsy says quietly. “I’ve never done it before.”

“I’m well aware. That’s quite the point of this ceremony.” Harry reminds him.

“God, god, _fuck_.” Eggsy curses, turning around and laying his forehead on the wall behind him. He feels like he could probably levitate with how many butterflies are in his stomach.

“Perhaps we could start by getting to know one another. Start with the basics to… loosen ourselves up.” Harry suggests eventually, and the voice is a dull vibration right up against Eggsy’s ear. Nevermind that he hadn’t heard Harry close the distance between them, the assumption of power, that he could rightfully be this close, is a bigger shock. Eggsy jumps and turns to look over his shoulder.

“Maybe.” Eggsy says quietly. When he notices how close they actually are, he looks back down in front of himself, but he’s boxed in against the wall with his stomach nearly touching the wallpaper and so there’s not much to look at.

“Does sex make you nervous?” Harry asks. His breath is a warm touch on the back of Eggsy’s neck and it’s giving him goosebumps. “Or is it the fact that you’ve never done it and might make a mistake that fans your reservations?”

“Both.” Eggsy whispers back. “I’ll probably be shit at it.”

“Then why not allow me to teach you?”

“Coz.” Eggsy starts. He tilts his head so that his neck is bared just a little bit. Harry’s lips are so close to his skin that Eggsy can sense them, but then Harry reaches down and takes one of Eggsy’s hands. He lifts it up and kisses the knuckles before he steps back and leads Eggsy to turning in his direction.

“I’d marry you regardless of your decision here today, Eggsy. I'd like to make that clear."

“Because of political things.” Eggsy tells him.

“Of course. That's not the sole reason and it certainly doesn’t mean that our marriage won’t be successful in other areas, too.”

“This is daft.” Eggsy tells him. He barely notices he’s playing with Harry’s fingers until Harry looks down between them. Eggsy looks down too. “The whole ‘sex before you marry’ thing. Part of me really thought it was a joke.”

“I should hope nobody would trick you about this.” Harry tells him.

Would it be so bad to accept this sort of proposition? Younger princes with bigger kingdoms and less handsome prospects have done it to secure much less. And though Eggsy’s never shared any sexual experiences with others, he’s not a stranger to arousal, so when the butterflies in his stomach slowly turn to lead and land like a heavy weight in his stomach, he decides that he should probably just… do it. Maybe.

He looks up at Harry and says, “If we do this today, it’s on you if you don’t like me tomorrow.”

“I’ll like you more tomorrow if the hour we’ve already spent together is any indication.” ” Harry tells him.

Eggsy takes a nervous step forward and looks down at Harry’s long, long legs.

It probably wouldn’t be too big a burden to take Harry on.

When Eggsy looks back up he’s smiling to himself and so he almost misses Harry moving in to kiss him. He catches it right as it happens and makes a shocked noise, but laughs it off when Harry tilts his head and presses more firmly against him.

Eggsy’s kissed others before. None have been as old as Harry and none have been nearly as confident. Eggsy knows he’s in trouble the second Harry winds an arm around the small of his back and pulls them so closely together that Eggsy says, ‘oof, shit,’ against his lips and Harry just smiles like he’s on to something.

It’s not rocket science that when he feels Harry’s tongue dancing along the shell of his lips he’s supposed to open up, and then again when he feels Harry’s tongue on his own and isn’t sure exactly what he should be doing, he lets Harry lead. It feels good - from the ghost of Harry’s breath against his lips to the way Harry hums into his mouth as they lick out and taste each other, and even when Harry tugs them both backwards towards the only bed in the room, Eggsy's body is thrumming approval.

But it’s not his body that’s the issue. Any twenty year old following the head between their legs might’ve followed Harry the entire way and fallen onto the mattress with him. Not Eggsy. Eggsy's got anxieties that start with that very same head between his legs.

“No, wait.” Eggsy breathes out. Harry starts nosing his way along Eggsy’s cheek and then his jaw, and then he’s kissing the hinge of Eggsy’s neck and sucking on it. Eggsy tilts his head like a floozy, horny young man, and he lets Harry have him for just a minute before he says, “Please, wait, Harry.”

Harry does stop. He loosens his grip on Eggsy’s body and leans back to look at him.

“I don’t wanna start like this.” Eggsy says. “Maybe you could sleep in my bed once or … or we could spend the day together first or something. ”

Other than a soft hint of surprise, Harry readily agrees. He offers Eggsy a quick smile and says, “That sounds like a splendid idea.”

“Is mum gonna fillet me if we don’t do it now? Like, is this a ‘needs to happen before midday’ type deal?”

“We’re not in dire straits just yet.”

Eggsy’s happy to hear it. In his head, the first order of business is getting out of his fluffy robe. They’d dressed him in it and paraded him around the castle looking like a beast, and a private disrobing is long overdue. He tells Harry as much and the man responds with a polite nod of his head towards the door.

“Of course. After you, Eggsy.”

 

* * *

 

  


If Maud was surprised to see that Eggsy had gotten out of it before, she’s almost gobsmacked the second time.

She’s making Eggsy’s bed when he runs into the his room and jumps on top of the freshly pressed covers. Other than fixing him with a severe look and straightening out the largest rumples in the blanket, she doesn’t tell him off. She does ask, “How are you here right now?”

And as soon as she’s said it Lorna pokes her head around the wall that separates the bedroom and the bathroom and says, “Oh my god, _Eggsy_! Why are you here?”

“Harry and I are gonna spend the day together.” Eggsy says. He’s sitting with his legs crossed and shrugging the robe off of his shoulders. It’s a wonder he’s gone all morning without wearing anything beneath it, but he rectifies that as quickly as possible by hopping back up off of the bed to go and find some fresh garments.

“Did you tell him no?” Maud asks.

“I asked if we could do it later since he might not like me by evening. Thought I’d save us both a little bit of trouble.”

“Well that’s… unconventional.” Lorna’s soft voice echoes in the bathroom. "I mean not really. It is supposed to be an evening ritual, after all."

“He said it was alright.” Eggsy calls back to her. “I thought we could go down to the stables and I could get him on a horse, see how he rides that first.”

“Oh my god.” Maud scoffs. She hides her face in her hands and turns towards the curtains so that Eggsy can see the neat tie of her braid. He smiles and goes back to fishing for his clothes, praying that William the Stable Boy won’t be down there to greet them when they finally turn up.

 

* * *

 

  


Eggsy knows that he has to avoid his mum.

He doesn’t meet with Harry again until he’s sure she’s busy, trawling around the castle in a skirt that’s entirely too large and even more loud than it is spectacularly outdated. He still hasn’t worked out why she’s wearing it. It’s certainly not the 1900’s anymore (though a bedding ceremony does nothing to dismiss the idea). He scales the walls and turns corners as if she might be around any one of them ready to scream “ _why aren’t you where you should be_ ’ and grabbing him by his ear. By the time he reaches one of the marble archways to the garden, he looks skittish and high-strung.

“It’s good to see you again, Eggsy.” Harry says with a smile that says Eggsy looks every bit as stupid as he feels, walking on eggshells and looking for a short, powerful blonde woman in a costume.

“Yeah, yeah.” Eggsy says. He smiles back. “Stables?”

“If you lead, I’ll follow.”

“Or we could walk together.”

“You’ll still be leading.” Harry says.

Eggsy thinks about it and then says, “Yeah, that’s true. Come on.”

Eggsy wants Harry to meet Nelly. She’s an older horse but she does well with blokes that are over a certain age, as long as she’s given a few carrots. None of the other horses like strangers much. Hell, they hardly like Eggsy, but Nelly is the special case among all of them. She’s kind enough once she’s fed, and she’d certainly let Harry up on her back.

“Do you ride horses a lot?” Eggsy asks. He guides Harry over to a set of bushes because there’s a shortcut to the stables that he’d made when he was younger and he’s a lazy sod. Harry follows him easily.

“Not as often as I’d like.” Harry says. “In my experience, horses can be mean little buggers.”

“Some just wanna eat.” Eggsy tells him. When there’s a large log in the pathway he jumps over it and then holds out his hand in case Harry needs help jumping over it too. Harry smiles at him and just throws his leg over the thing, climbing neatly to Eggsy’s side of it and then brushing his palms together to get rid of the dirt. His suit doesn't suffer any remnants of his climbing which is impressive. 

“You may be right about that. I once had a horse named Tito who wouldn’t let me anywhere near him unless I bartered with him first. Bananas. Always bananas.”

Eggsy looks over his shoulder and says, “Animals are always like their owners, innit?”

“I don’t like bananas.” Harry tells him.

“Figurative bananas.” Eggsy clarifies.

“Clearly I like figurative bananas.” Harry says. “But I wasn’t going to give any of those to my horse.”

The stable is the quietest place on the grounds. When Harry and Eggsy reach the clearing it’s immediately obvious that they’re stepping into a space primarily inhabited by animals. Eggsy’s never minded the smell, but when he turns around and Harry’s got his mouth turned down and he’s almost up on his toes for how stiff he’s gone, Eggsy laughs a bit.

“Oh, come on. Horse shit is good for plants.”

“Yes, I know. I thought we were going to the stables, not the manure patch.”

“We’re takin’ a shortcut.” Eggsy says with a smile that’s so wide it almost splits his cheeks. He steps back over to Harry and takes his hand, tugging him along in the direction of the actual stables. He can already hear Nelly from across the field and he’s too excited to wait for nervous Harry to get over a bit of poop. “You can get your shoes cleaned before you head home.”

Harry lets himself be pulled all the way across a field of disturbed grass and horseshit.

The stables are nice and cool, and many of the horses have been put into their respective stalls, but Nelly and Harper are out getting their coats brushed by William.

“Will!” Eggsy screams, and the man startles so hard he almost falls off of his stool.

“Eggsy, my god!” William yells back, holding his chest. Nelly makes a loud, angry sound and rears up just a bit, and William reaches out to still her. “Your mum was just down here looking for you.”

“ _No_.” Eggsy hisses. “Was she?”

“Yeah. Mentioned something about the cooks. They said you was running around the castle when I think you should’ve been…” William trails off. He peeks at Harry and then smiles just a bit. “Well, should’ve been with him, I assume. I don’t think they saw him tagging along when they bumped into you.”

“Eugh,” Eggsy moans. “Coz he was outside.”

“Hello, I’m William. Pleasure to meet you.” William says by way of introduction. He sticks out his hand and Harry reaches around Eggsy to take it. When they shake it’s like magic - two gorgeous men connected at the hands and looking in one another’s eyes as they do it. Eggsy licks his lips and turns towards Nelly.

“She looks happy today.” Eggsy comments.

“She’s just been washed and brushed.” William says. He looks over at Harry and says, “Are you two here to take her off for a bit?”

“Only if she’s available.” Harry says. He looks down at his shoes a bit sadly and says, “You wouldn’t happen to have an emergency pair of coverings, would you?”

“I’m sorry. Round here we just… keep the shit on our shoes.”

Eggsy snorts and leans in to pet Nelly properly. William turns around to grab their bucket of snacks and hands Eggsy a few carrots, and then Eggsy hands one to Harry because Harry’ll be the one riding her. He can ride Harper.

“Do you have apples for Mrs. Harpy here?” Eggsy asks.

“Oh, you can’t ride Harper.” William tells him sadly. “She hurt her foot. The vet’ll be here to look at her soon. If you want, I can saddle Nelly up and you can ride double.”

“Uhm.” Eggsy says. He looks at the size of Nelly and then he thinks about how congested it’ll be with him and Harry on the horse together. It might not be such a bad thing. He’ll be close to Harry tonight anyway, so a bit of lap action can’t hurt. He turns to Harry and asks, “Have you ever ridden double?”

“Once or twice.” Harry smiles. “It can’t be too difficult.”

“Maybe I should sit in back.” Eggsy mumbles. Harry probably wouldn’t agree to that.

Surprisingly, the man widens his eyes and responds with a quick, “Yes, Eggsy. I think that would be a great idea. If you’re amenable to it and it wasn’t just a passing thought.”

“No, course not. I don’t wanna kill you. Safer if I’m on back.”

While William hops down from his perch so that he can saddle Nelly up for them, Eggsy walks Harry around the stalls so that he can meet the rest of the horses. They’re all tossers, kind of cranky old beasts, but his mum had fallen in love with each one of them separately and insisted they stay despite being almost completely useless. Harry reaches out to greet each one of them and they huff around his fingers, deciding that he’s not interesting if he doesn’t have food before trotting away. When Harry makes an irritated noise in the back of his throat, Eggsy laughs under his breath.

“Don’t worry,” Eggsy tells him. “They don’t like me much either.”

By the time they get back to the head of the stable, William is ready for them. He hands Eggsy a helmet and then he hands one to Harry too, who looks like he’d rather do anything but put this particular piece on his head.

“We can’t ride without them. Part of the ‘don’t wanna kill you’ package.” Eggsy says as he plops his down on his head. It’ll mess up their hair, sure, but if Nelly wants to catch a temper then atleast they’ll keep their heads about them.

Harry reluctantly puts his on.

“You still look handsome.” Eggsy tells him.

Harry smiles in a way that turns his lips down, but accentuates his crow's feet. It’s marvelous as much as it is contagious, and Eggsy nudges Harry with his elbow before nodding his head to the horse. “Come on, let’s get you up here.”

Harry’s suit creates a bit of difficulty since his legs can’t stretch far in the fabric of them, but Eggsy holds tight to him as he slips his foot into one of the stirrups and tugs himself up by the reins. He fits the saddle almost perfectly, settling down into it before Eggsy follows him up and slips right up behind it.

“Alright, Nelly. Be good.” William begs. He hands Eggsy a small baggie full of carrots and Eggsy smiles down at him.

“She’ll definitely be good now.” He says, waving the bag in front of him so that Harry can see. He presses them into Harry’s breast pocket and Harry makes an indignant noise, but allows it.

Harry reaches forward and grips the front of the saddle while Eggsy quickly explains, “Nelly doesn’t like her sides kicked, so we’ll have to rock forward to get her to go, yeah?”

“Of course.” Harry says.

William politely takes himself back to Harper's side with his horsebrush and continues his primping routine. It’s when he does this that Eggsy leans his head closer to Harry’s shoulder and says, “Whenever you’re ready, love.”

Harry takes the reins in his left hand and then rocks himself back and forth until Nelly starts to go with him, stepping her ways towards the exit.

It’s been a long time since Eggsy’s ridden a horse and an even longer time since he’s ridden it with someone else. Eggsy winds his arms around Harry’s abdomen and holds on. Their thighs are touching despite the size of the saddle, and only Eggsy’s feet are without stirrups, though he’s tempted to slip them in just to fudge up Harry’s shoes a little more.

Once they’ve made it outside, Harry’s not sure where to go. He leads Nelly whichever direction he chooses and just lets her go.

“She’s lazy like me,” Eggsy tells him. “You have to rock harder if you want her to go anywhere.”

Harry does rock harder. He pushes his hips forward and Eggsy goes with him, following his movements so that Nelly will pick up on them, and they rock until she’s up to trotting with the two of them bouncing on her back as she goes.

It’s nice. There’s not much of a breeze because their helmets are in the way, but if Eggsy rests his chin on Harry’s shoulder (which he shouldn’t be doing - it’s dangerous with the way the horse is moving), he can smell the oils on Harry’s neck. The man smells like…

“Cinnamon?”

“Mmm.” Harry hums. He reaches down and tightens Eggsy’s arms around his waist. “I’m fond of the scent. Likely as a gag gift, a friend bought me an essential oil form of the stuff and assumed I wouldn’t ever use it. I’m quite enjoying my cinnamon scented baths.”

Eggsy smiles and then turns his head so that he can get a really good sniff of it. His nose trails along the skin of Harry's neck, warm and smooth, and he shivers even though he's the one administering the attention. Eventually, he straightens back up and watches the trees as they trot past them.

As it turns out, Nelly has places she wants to go. Harry doesn’t steer her like he’s supposed to, and so for an overwhelming amount of time she just goes straight. Then they come within thirty feet of a garden and Nelly decides that this is where they’re going. She takes herself there and Harry lets her go, leading with the reins whichever way he thinks she wants.

The palace garden isn’t big. It’s got watermelons, something that Eggsy’s extra fond of, and it’s got carrots, something that Nelly’s fond of. There's also a pond about a mile up the way and the walk is nice. On a whim, Eggsy says, “Do you like watermelons? I can’t marry a man who don’t like watermelons.”

Harry laughs. “You are a character Eggsy," and then he quickly clarifies, "Of course I like watermelons.”

Eggsy smiles and coaxes Harry to pulling back on the reins so that they can stop. Nelly does it pitifully, as she keeps walking forward just a bit when she realizes the carrots aren't actually that far away. Harry tries not to laugh about that, but every time she starts trotting forward again he does.

“Dozy fucking horse,” Eggsy says, tugging back firmly on the reins.

When she finally looks like she might sit still, Eggsy climbs off first. He wonders for a second if he should help Harry down since he’s not sure it’s safe to let the man climb down by himself, but then Harry reaches out for his hand and Eggsy automatically provides it, giving him something to hold onto as he hops gracefully from the stirrup.

“Thank you,” Harry says.

Eggsy leans in and kisses his cheek, then he says, “Welcome.”

It’s startling how attracted Eggsy is to the physical look of Harry. He has to stop himself from reaching out and running his fingers through the man’s hair. It looks soft, and although Eggsy suspects there’s a bit of product in there keeping it from going to shit, it still looks like it’s behaving itself.

Harry must see him looking, because he leans in and kisses Eggsy’s cheek back, smiling as he pulls away. “You’re also quite dashing, Eggsy.”

“What?” Eggsy mumbles before he realizes that he’s either said something out loud, or he’s looking in a way that’s speaking for him. He sighs and shakes his head before turning away. Then he takes Harry with him to go and explore the vegetables that his mum has planted this year.

 

* * *

 

No conversations can actually make up for the lack of time Harry and Eggsy have spent together.

Eggsy doesn’t even know which political profit Harry is in this for.

He wants to ask him before they climb back up on to the horse and head back. These conversations are always better had outside of the prying ears of others, but he can’t bring himself to do it since they’re preparing themselves to waddle through knee-deep water in search of his pendant. 

How the thing had gone from his neck to the pond was an arresting series of unfortunate events, all having to do with sneaking peeks at Harry’s arse and then trying to play it off and in doing so, missing the uneven pavement and tripping his way right down into the water. Harry had followed him in immediately, but the water wasn’t deep enough to drown and so Eggsy had laughed it off and nudged him away with a quick, “I’m fine, Harry.”

They’d made it all the way back to the horse before Eggsy realized it was missing.

The pendant itself isn't worth any money. It's a shoddy old thing that his father had given him before his passing, and so the only value it has is sentimental, but that's the exact reason that Eggsy recognized the lack of weight against his chest where it usually sits

So Harry had suggested they go back and look for it together.

“You don’t have to.” Eggsy had said, but he’s quite visibly upset. He'd carded his fingers through his hair and then put his hands on his hips, shaking his head. “It’s fine. We all lose things.”

“There’s no reason to not go back and look for it.” Harry had responded. He’d already removed his suit jacket and laid it comfortably over Nelly’s saddle. “You're already soaked, my trouser legs are already soaked. Now would be the perfect time.”

Eggsy wasn't going to agree, but his chest had felt empty without the irritation of the pendant rubbing up against it, so he'd followed Harry back to the pond a mile away to look for it.

Harry removes his shoes before he’s even close to the water. He evens them up and then removes his socks and folds them, slipping them into the mouth of the closest shoe. Eggsy doesn’t realize he’s staring until Harry begins to roll up his trouser bottoms, and he realizes that it’s difficult with such a crisp and specially tailored type of fabric to do. When Harry looks up to see Eggsy staring at him, Eggsy quickly reaches down and starts to remove his own shoes.

“You like to watch people.” Harry tells him.

“I like to watch you.” Eggsy corrects him. “I told you you look good.”

“Thank you. As I’ve said before, I don’t think physical compatibility is at all the issue for either of us in this situation, as I think you're equally attractive. Perhaps what you suffer from is the lack of knowledge about who I am as a person, and so you’re unwilling to found a marriage off of that. I applaud you for that.”

“Is that a long-winded way to say you don’t care about me staring?” Eggsy asks.

“Yes.” Harry says.

Eggsy smiles down at his feet and rolls his own trousers up to his calves. He’s a good deal more dressed down than Harry, ignoring the rules that say princes should spend time on their appearance and instead sporting some (quite casual) slim fit trousers and a cardigan. He removes that because he’s still soaked, so the extra weight of it isn’t doing him any favors, and then it’s Harry’s turn to ogle.

“But you are stunning.” Harry admits honestly, and Eggsy goes red in the cheeks.

“Is that the only reason you bid on me?” Eggsy asks, despite knowing it's not. He needs to open this conversation back up to get some curiosities off of his plate.

“No.” Harry says quietly. “It was much more than that.”

“Like what?”

Harry sighs deeply and nods towards the water. “You never saw any of your other suitors. Your mother wouldn’t have shown you. I wasn’t willing to let you go with any of them. It wasn’t so much that I was prepared to deliver your bedding ceremony than it was a preventative measure from allowing others to take you to bed. Though, when I saw you this morning I'll daresay it was difficult to not imagine the scenario where you might grant me the pleasure of taking you to bed, anyway.”

“Why do you care about others bidding on me?” Eggsy asks. “I’ve never met you before in my life.”

“I’m not sure myself. Your mother opened the bid weeks ago and I saw you. I just ... I knew I had to...” Harry says quietly. He thinks for a second and then he shakes his head and says, “We’ve got a token to find. Come along, Eggsy.”

If Harry thinks the conversation has been dropped because they’re getting their feet wet, the man is wrong. Eggsy goes into the water armed with questions, confident in the knowledge that Harry won’t be able to run away without looking ridiculous.

“Who else bid on me?”

“Several other… politicians.” Harry tells him.

“How fucking long was I up for bid?” Eggsy asks.

“Weeks.” Harry repeats. “Which is why I’m surprised your mother never told you your bedding ceremony was upcoming.”

Eggsy makes a wounded noise and then looks away. “She might’ve mentioned it. I’m just shit at listening.” He grumbles.

“A fine trait for a future king,” Harry jokes.

“Pfft.” Eggsy responds. “I won’t have to listen if I’ve got a husband who can do it for me.”

Eggsy feels as much as he can with his feet, waiting to hit something hard enough to investigate. He’s get his face as close to the water as he can keep it without falling over, and his hands are running through the pond with the tips of his fingers grazing the sandy bottom of it. He hopes the pendant hasn’t floated under a rock or something.

“Harry?”

“Yes, Eggsy.”

“Will you really be alright if I’m just… dreadful.”

“Dreadful?”

“Yeah. At the whole sex thing.”

Harry stops and says, “Eggsy, you wouldn’t be dreadful. Sex can be… physically demanding, but it’s not difficult. You could have sex with ten other people and go into a new relationship blind. My experience doesn't necessarily make me any more equipped to handle you. Perhaps what you’re nervous about is your partner's standards for intimacy of which, I’m happy to say, I have none. As long as we’re not broken when we leave your bed, we can learn together what the other likes and dislikes, and we can both expect to make mistakes along the way.”

Eggsy hums and keeps sifting through the sand. “You didn’t get a bedding ceremony?”

“No.” Harry says. “Because I’d given myself away long before that age. I shouldn’t have, but we all follow urges we shouldn’t from time to time.”

“Oh.” Eggsy says. He waits a beat before he asks, “Who’d you give it to?”

“A man named Richard. More commonly goes by the name of ‘Merlin’ these days since he’s something of a wizard.”

“Richard sounds like a king.” Eggsy says.

“He wasn’t. He worked for our public relations office.” Harry says. “But I’d known him since my youth and I was curious. We both agreed to never speak of it and yet here I am.”

“Here you are.” Eggsy smiles, standing up and putting a hand on his mid back likes he’s been doing heavy lifting. He has been, actually. He’s been carrying around the weight of an attractive, spirited, _experienced_ older man who’s talking him into bed and trying to assure him he’ll be just fine. Which if Eggsy thinks about it, might be true.

He might also wake up tomorrow with a broken backside.

“What did Richard like?”

“We tried a lot of things. He liked a lot of them.”

“Do you think he’s ever told anyone?” Eggsy asks him, going to his side when Harry pulls something up out of the water. It reflects pink and gold, and Eggsy knows he’s found it before he’s close enough to get a good look.

“More than likely.” Harry says. He hands Eggsy the pendant and then makes his way back towards his shoes. When he climbs out of the water with dripping calves and rolled up shirtsleeves, he looks like he might be two steps from ripping the rest of his clothes of and gracing the world with his wonderful body. He doesn't because only in Eggsy's overactive imagination would that happen. “I think that rule was to safeguard ourselves more than others since I couldn’t have ever married him.”

“Do you want to?”

“Not anymore. It’s a long time past.”

Eggsy waddles his way to Harry and then rubs the pendent on his shirt to get the water off of it. He looks at the chain and realizes the thing is broken. He has no idea how that happened. “It’s fuckin’ broken.” Eggsy whispers.

“I can get you a new chain.” Harry tells him easily. “We should get back before your horse throws a fit.”

“Not if you give her some emergency carrots.” Eggsy tells him.

Eggsy’s curious about this Richard, but he has no right to be considering that he knows nothing about Harry otherwise. He’d inquired and Harry had answered him honestly - there’s no reason for Eggsy to internalize some fear based on a man's past. But his head turns to the idea that Richard has set some sort of precedent, despite what Harry will admit to, and that Eggsy won’t be close to reaching it.

He wishes he wouldn’t think this way. He sidles up to Harry and walks close to him, trying to familiarize himself with the size and heat of Harry’s body, and Harry accommodates by lifting his arm and wrapping it around Eggsy’s shoulder. Eggsy winds an arm around Harry’s waist.

“Alright. Two hours in and you’re at about a six.”

“A six?” Harry asks.

“Out of ten.” Eggsy says. “From what I know about you, that’s where I’ve put you.”

“And how would I get to ten?” Harry asks fondly. “What things are you expecting to see?”

“Can’t tell you or you’ll start to do ‘em.” Eggsy says. When he shrugs, Harry’s arm bounces on his shoulder. “I’ve got the rest of the day to get you figured out.”

Harry nods as if he's looking forward to the challenge before tightening his grip on Eggsy's body. By tonight, Eggsy happily considers that he'll have made a decision based on not three or four minutes of acquaintanceship, but a whole day.


End file.
